


The Decree

by Ravenheart (AmelieLacroix)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Injury, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21778861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmelieLacroix/pseuds/Ravenheart
Summary: "Dear Ms. Granger,The Ministry of Magic has decreed that all witches and wizards of ”pureblood” background are expected to spend a minimum of one (1) hour per week socializing with a witch or wizard born to non-magical parents."Aka: This is my excuse to write kinky dark stuff about Lucius and Hermione.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 25
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well here we go, I have no idea how long this will be.  
> It will be dark.  
> It will be kinky.
> 
> I will try my best to update once per week.
> 
> Thank you to mindfang for beta reading. 
> 
> PS: apologies for any mistakes I might make, English is not my first language.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_  
  
_The Ministry of Magic has decreed that all witches and wizards of ” pureblood” background are expected to spend a minimum of one (1) hour per week socializing with a witch or wizard born to non-magical parents. _  
  
_The performed activity can be any event that complies with the standard laws of the wizarding world._  
  
_The Ministry hopes that this will help in rebuilding new connections between spell casters of diverse backgrounds and help undo the importance of blood status in the wizarding world._  
  
_Please find attached the information about Your first meeting._  
  
_We thank You for Your co-operation._  
  
_Signed Kingsley Shacklebolt, _  
_Minister for Magic._  
  
Hermione stared at the piece of parchment. She wasn’t quite sure what to think about this.  
Sure, it was rather nice of the Ministry to try and actually do something for a change. However, she was uncertain if civil conversation was enough to undo decades of prejudice.  
_Well , it is a start._ _We all have to start somewhere_ , she thought with a wry smile on her face, recalling how she had tried to get Harry and Ron involved with S.P.E.W.  
  
Hermione waved her wand absently, making the teapot on the kitchen table float upwards and tip more of its contents to her mug.  
It had been over five years since the war. The first year had been hard and chaotic for all involved, with all the trauma and wounds, both mental and physical, but slowly, the Golden Trio had settled in on their lives.  
  
Harry was working as the DADA teacher at Hogwarts, living at the castle during the term. On holidays he traveled wherever Ginny Weasley, the star chaser of the Holyhead Harpies, went.   
  
Ron was working with his brothers at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. He lived with Fred and George in a small flat above the store at Diagon Alley. 

And herself? She worked as an assistant at Flourish & Blotts and lived in a cozy apartment in London, quite near where her parents used to live. It had been a hard decision, but in the end she had decided that it would be kinder to leave Monica and Wendell Wilkins to live in Australia with their new son, Henry.

She was perfectly happy living alone. Well, not all alone.  
After the war she had gone back to the Burrow, where she had reunited with her beloved cat, Crookshanks.  
  
Ron had respected her wishes of taking it slow and giving her space. She needed time to figure what she wanted to do with her life. She cared deeply about Ron and felt relieved that he was happy with just them going on dates now and then, just enjoying each others company.  
  
Hermione took a sip of her tea and lifted up the other piece of parchment that had come with the decree.  
  
Dear Ms. Granger,  
  
_Your first meeting will be on Monday at 2:00 PM_  
_at the Fleur de Lys restaurant._  
_Your expenses will be taken care of by your host._  
  
_We trust that you will be punctual._  
_Ministry of Magic_  
  
_Fleur de Lys?_ That was the posh French restaurant in Diagon Alley. Hermione had never been there, as it was quite expensive, but she had dreamed about going there some day with Ron. But now she had to go there with some strange pureblood.   
She wondered if her mysterious partner had chosen this restaurant on purpose.  
Seeing how they’re pureblood, they are probably rolling in galleons, she thought.  
I just hope it’s nobody too insufferable. Like Zabini. Or even worse, Malfoy. Though Draco might have grown some brains after school.   
  
Sighing, she threw the piece of parchment on the table.  
Well, at least she had a week to plan on what to discuss with her Ministry appointed pureblood.  
  
Maybe she’d get them to join S.P.E.W.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to mindfang again for the help.
> 
> Here we go we all knew this was going to happen.

The next week flew by quickly. Hermione was kept busy at work, as September the 1st was getting closer and Flourish & Blotts was full of Hogwarts students getting their books.

She didn’t mind. She genuinely enjoyed her job. It was fascinating really, learning about the new books and seeing which text books the students would have this year.

There was also the constant restocking of the shelves and guiding all the other customers. She ended up working overtime most days and when she finally got home from work she was exhausted.

In no time it was the weekend. Hermione began to feel nervous and found it hard to concentrate on her own projects because her mind kept wandering off to think about Monday. Who would she meet on? What if they were the worst kind of pureblood? Yes but the Ministry wouldn’t just choose actual ex- death eaters, would they? They were all in prison.

She’d had enough of death eaters to last her a lifetime.

After a restless weekend it was finally Monday.

She apparated to Diagon Alley long before the set time, but she didn’t want to be late. It didn’t take her long to find the _Fleur de Lys_ , as the outside of the restaurant was very extravagant, with huge high windows and marble pillars.

She told her name to the elegantly clad doorman outside, who checked her name on a list and waved his wand, opening the door for her. She stepped inside and let out a gasp. This was definitely the fanciest restaurant she had ever been to.

Antique mirrors hung on the walls and on the ceiling there were huge crystal chandeliers, lit by real fairies. She saw wizarding paintings with gold frames around them, depicting magical landscapes and architecture all through history.

Despite herself she felt very out of place here.

A smiling waitress, dressed in even more elegant robes than the doorman outside greeted her.

“ _Bonjour mad_ _e_ _moiselle_ Granger, let me show you to your table. Your partner has not yet arrived, but I was told that you would be here early.”The woman had a slight French accent.

Hermione smiled nervously. “ _Merci_. This is a very beautiful place.”

“You’re too kind, _mad_ _e_ _moiselle_ ,” the waitress said as she walked Hermione to her table.

The waitress waved her wand, and the chair moved to let Hermione sit on it. With another wave the crystal carafe filled her silver goblet with water.

“Please, if you need anything, just call for Claudia. I will be at your service for the rest of your stay.”

“I will be sure to remember that, Claudia,” Hermione said as she sat down.

The chair was extremely comfortable, and she wondered if they used a special kind of cushion charm.

She took a sip from her goblet and picked up the leatherbound menu, thinking how this would be a good time to brush up on her French.

She absentmindedly browsed through the pages, noting how many intriguing magical ingredients many of the dishes had in them. She couldn’t wait to try out something.

“Ms. Granger. I am _so_ glad you could make it. I must say you look even more ravishing than when I last saw you.”

Hermione froze. Fear fluttered in her stomach and she felt like she couldn’t move. That voice. It was the voice that haunted her nightmares.

Without thinking she clutched the part of her left arm where the scar was. _This can’t be happening. It’_ _s_ _not real. It can’t be real._ _This is just a bad dream._

Slowly, she lifted her head and looked in the cold, grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a lot longer than expected due to the holidays & me having a bit of a writer's block.
> 
> Thanks again for your patience & huge thanks to mindfang for proofreading this.

1998

Malfoy Manor

“Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback.”

“Wait,” said Lucius abruptly. “All except... except for the Mudblood.”

“No!” shouted Ron. “You can have me, keep me!”

Lucius smacked Ron hard across the face and Hermione felt her fear being replaced by fury.

“If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next. Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them — yet.”

Lucius pulled a silver knife from the pocket of his robes, cut her free from the other prisoners and dragged her to the middle of the room.

Hermione tried to fight back but Lucius was too strong, and he was gripping her hair hard. She watched desperately as Greyback forced the rest of the prisoners into another room and out of her sight.

“Now then, Ms. Granger. This doesn’t have to be hard,” Lucius said with a fake sweet voice. “Just tell me where you found that sword, and nobody has to get hurt.”

Hermione looked at him with hatred burning in her eyes. “Go to hell, Malfoy.”

Lucius smirked, looking slightly amused. “I can’t say I am surprised. You were always such a stubborn little mudblood.”

He lifted his wand and pointed it at her.

“Crucio.”

It was pain like Hermione had never felt before. White-hot knives were piercing every inch of her skin. Her bones were on fire, and she was sure her head was about to burst from the pain. She bit her tongue and tasted blood. She wouldn’t scream. Not for him. Never.

Then, after what felt like hours, the curse was finally lifted. She lied panting and trembling on the ground where she must have fallen when the curse hit her.

“Well well, you truly are stubborn. I didn’t expect for you to manage to stay quiet.”

Hermione looked up at Malfoy’s face with hatred. He looked slightly surprised. She didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t tell him anything. No matter what he did.

Malfoy leaned over Hermione, tracing her face with the tip of his wand.

“What, no clever reply? Where is that famed Gryffindor _courage_ I’ve heard so much about?”

Her only answer was to spit up a mouthful of blood and saliva right onto Malfoy’s smug face.

Malfoy’s face flushed with anger. “How dare you, you filthy little mudblood?” he hissed and made a slashing motion with his wand. Hermione gasped with pain as she felt a gash appear in her cheek.

Then another, even more powerful Cruciatus curse tore through her body, and she couldn’t think. The only thing she knew in the world at that moment was the all-consuming, blinding agony.

She was vaguely aware of a high-pitched screaming coming from somewhere. _Oh God, please just let it end. Let him kill me, please, I can’t take this anymore._

The Cruciatus was lifted again and her body was shaking uncontrollably now in the aftershocks of the curse. It had been so much worse than the first one.

"Not so stubborn after all, are we?” Malfoy sneered. He was clearly enjoying this.

“I’m not telling you anything” she answered, spitting the words out at him. Her voice was hoarse from screaming and she could still taste the coppery blood in her mouth.

"I have heard that line so many times from actual witches and wizards, and every single one of them has succumbed in the end.”

“I am a witch,” she said hoarsely, her throat ragged from the screaming.

“So you insist. But you’re not a witch. You and your kind are a blight on the wizarding world.”

With dread, Hermione watched as Malfoy pulled out the silver dagger again.

“Lucky for you, I am kind enough to teach you a lesson you have still not learned.”

Malfoy lifted his wand.

“Petrificus Totalus.”

The full body-bind hex hit her and she was frozen in place, unable to move as Malfoy got closer to her. With horror she could only look as he placed himself on top of her lower body and almost tenderly traced her face with the point of the dagger.

Her anger at Malfoy had momentarily overcome her fear of him, but now she was truly terrified.

What if he gauged out her eyes? Or her tongue?

“Let me give you a permanent reminder of what you are,” he whispered into her ear. He moved the dagger to her left arm and brought it down slowly.

She couldn't move her head, which forced him to look as Malfoy sliced the skin in her forearm open. The pain was nothing compared to the Cruciatus, but it was somehow worse.

It was too close, too intimate.

M

Was the sick bastard going to carve his own name on her arm?

“You see, this is a special dagger. The marks it makes cannot be undone. So, every day, for the rest of your short life, you will see these letters and be reminded of what you truly are.”

U

D

Tears were rolling down Hermione’s face. She knew what he was going to write now. She watched as her blood flowed from the wounds along her arm, trickling into a small puddle on the floor. The cuts ached terribly, but her pride was even more damaged.

“So, would you mind telling me where exactly you got that sword that my dear sister-in-law got so upset about?”

He removed part of the hex with a flick of his wand. She could now move her mouth to answer.

B

L

She couldn't take it anymore. Maybe he’d stop if she told him something. Made up a lie. Anything to make it stop.

“It’s not real. It’s a copy. I swear it’s a copy, it’s not the real sword.”

O

O

He wasn't stopping. He would carve the whole damned word on her skin.

D

Finally, he removed the dagger, wiping the blood on her robes.

“Wouldn’t want your impure blood to stain my dagger permanently.”

“Now do you see, Ms. Granger? Take a good look at that word. That is what you are. Not a witch. You are a disgusting muggle spawn who should have never been let into the wizarding world.”

Her face was wet with tears. She would have rather taken a hundred more Cruciatus curses than this. They were so impersonal compared to what he had done to her.

“Now then,” Malfoy said matter-of-factly. “Back to the business at hand. You said the sword was a fake? I find that hard to believe. You could be lying. So, maybe we will have another dose of pain.”

He smiled at her. “I must say, I do _enjoy_ hearing you scream.”

“Crucio.”

It hit her again, and now she was screaming louder than ever, trying desperately to form words.

“PLEASE OH GOD PLEASE IT’S NOT REAL IT’S JUST A COPY I SWEAR I SWEAAAAR!” she screamed over and over again, until her voice was almost gone. She would keep to her story no matter what. She would not betray her friends to Voldemort.

Finally, after what felt like years, it was over. Her whole body was one big ache. She was shivering like with a high fever and covered in a cold sweat.

“It seems you may be telling the truth after all. Well, it will be easy to check. The goblin downstairs will recognize the real sword.”

He finally removed the rest of the body binding curse and she felt her tense muscles relax slightly.

“Draco, fetch the goblin,” Malfoy called.

Hermione could hear footsteps in the room adjacent to them, going down a flight of stairs.

Griphook would know it was the real sword. He would tell, and she would be punished.

Malfoy was still on top of her, gazing at her with a strange look in his grey eyes. He still had the dagger in his hand, and now he was tracing it across the front of her robes.

“Do you think the Dark Lord will give you to me as a reward for bringing him the Potter boy?” he said, leaning closer. She could feel his breath on her neck as he whispered into her ear.

"Because there are _so_ many other ways I could make you scream, Hermione.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life's been busy & writing is hard sometimes.
> 
> I'll try to be better with updates.

**Present day**

Hermione couldn’t move. This couldn’t be happening. He should be rotting in Azkaban. She had hoped to never see him again. He still haunted her nightmares, and now seeing him standing there in the flesh was too much. The way he just looked at her, with a slightly amused glint in his grey eyes.

He sat down opposite her.

Hermione felt anger surge inside her and the fear and lethargy that had initially overcome her ebbed away, replaced with her fury at the audacity of this man.

“You,” she hissed at him, trying to stand up from her chair. To her surprise and horror, she couldn’t move, no matter how hard she tried. Hurriedly, she tried to snatch her bag but Malfoy was faster.

“Accio.”

Her fingertips grazed the fabric of the bag and then it was flying towards Malfoy’s outstreched hand.

“Give that back,” she spat at him.

“Why, so you can hex me? I didn’t take you as someone who would break ministry regulations, Ms. Granger,” he said as he pulled out her wand and started twirling it around tauntingly with his fingers.

“You’d deserve it. You’d deserve it and so much more,” she said furiously.

“Oh, come now, surely we can leave all that, eh… unpleasantness in the past.”

“Unpleasantness?” she sputtered. “You _tortured_ me. You carved open my bloody arm!”

“Now now, there is no reason to make a scene.” It was driving her mad, how he could just sit there, speaking to her so casually and calmly, as if nothing had ever happened between them. As if he hadn’t tortured her and almost done even worse things to her.

“Let me go. You can’t force me to stay here.”

Malfoy smirked.

“ _I_ may not be able to force you to stay here but the decree can. You agreed to it. Binding, magical contract and all that.”

Malfoy’s smirk grew into a wide smile. He looked extremely pleased with himself.

“I didn’t agree to _this_! The decree shouldn’t be able to do this.”

“As observant as ever, Ms. Granger. Yes, the normal decree should not be able to do this, but ours is not a normal one.”

“What do you mean?” she replied with a rising feeling of dread.

“I made the Ministry draft a special contract for us. Neither one of us can leave during the hour we are supposed to spend socializing.”

“The Ministry… But Kingsley would never allow that!”

“Oh, my sweet, naive girl. Do you really think Shacklebolt doesn’t have a price? Everyone has one. Be it money or… someone close to them. Everyone has something that can be used against them. Take, for example, you and the Weasley boy.”

She felt cold inside again. Not Ron. Please, not him.

“I swear, Malfoy, if you have done anything to Ron I’ll make you regret it.”

“You are not in any position to make idle threats, Ms. Granger. Rest assured, however, I have done nothing to the boy. _Yet_. I have no interest in him. It is you I am interested in, _Hermione_.”

He had used her name again. She shuddered when she thought about the last time he had heard her name come out of those lips.

What would have happened if Dobby hadn’t helped them break out of the manor? Before Malfoy had had the chance to do anything else than trail the dagger across her chest, he had been stunned by Harry or Ron, and after that everything had been such chaos. The next thing she remembered was landing on all fours on the sandy beach near Shell Cottage.

She tried to collect herself.

“Why me?”, she asked, trying hard to not sound like scared young girl.

“Why, indeed?” he said musingly.

“Well, you see, Hermione. You might find it hard to believe, but there are several reasons. For one, I have never experienced anyone resisting my Cruciatus for so long. And even when you gave in, you managed to lie to me. I find that quite impressive.”

Him impressed with her. Ew yuck.

“Secondly, you hate me.”

“Oh, I don’t hate you. I just find you completely morally bankrupt, arrogant, sadistic, and utterly repulsive in all ways.”

He laughed at her coldly.

“There it is, the Gryffindor courage, the _fire_ inside you.”

She felt extremely uncomfortable under his gaze. It was like she wasn’t wearing anything. She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around her in a fruitless attempt to shield her body from him. She wouldn’t show weakness.

“Your hate...It stems from the torment inside you. Of what I did to you. That is why you hide your scar. You are afraid to admit what you really are. Your shame and pain...It is intoxicating.”

“You really are a sadistic piece of shit, you know that, right Malfoy?”

He made a fast slashing motion with her wand and she felt a cut appear across her face.

“If I were you, I would be _extremely_ careful of how you address me. Especially if you do not want the Weasley boy to turn up floating face down in the Thames tomorrow,” he hissed.

The words stung more than the cut on her face. She didn’t understand why anyone else in the restaurant didn’t interfere. Her server, Claudia, was pointedly ignoring them.

Malfoy noticed her looking around.

“I told you, Hermione. Everyone has a price.”

She wanted to yell at him but she thought of Ron and bit down on her tongue.

Malfoy lowered her wand and looked pleased.

“Finally remembering your manners, very good. Now, I would like you to apologize to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her face burning with shame.

“Pardon me, I didn’t quite catch that,” he said, raising her wand slightly again.

Oh, the sick bastard, he was enjoying this so much. How she despised him.

There was no way out. Either she complied or she would suffer even more. And even worse, Malfoy would make Ron suffer. She doubted that he would actually kill Ron but she wouldn't put it past him to torture and hurt Ron to get to her. She could withstand pain but seeing someone she cared about getting hurt would shatter her resolve all too quickly.

She forced herself to speak up.

“I am so sorry for speaking so rudely. It won’t happen again.”

This was going to be a very long hour.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse except that life keeps happening & writing is hard

Hermione slammed the door shut behind her. Finally, she was home. She locked the door behind her, making sure that all the protective spells were in place. With trembling feet, she barely made it to the bathroom in time to vomit. Her whole body was shaking and cold sweat clung to her skin. She took slow, steadying breaths and started filling the bath tub with hot water.

_Unclean._

Her intial thoughts had been right, it had been a very long hour.

It had been extremely unpleasant, just having to sit there and make conversation with the man she loathed – and despite herself – feared so much.

* * *

At first, it had been just polite conversation. He had questioned her about her job at Flourish & Blotts. About her plans for the future. But even that had made her uncomfortable. His eyes never left hers, and she didn’t dare to not look at him, fearing that it would make him lash out again.

Eventually, the conversation had turned to her years at Hogwarts.

“Draco always was very jealous of you, you know. You beat him at every class and exam. Naturally I was curious to see the mudblood who was so clever.”

He gave her an appraising look.

“I must admit, I was impressed. The way you stared at me defiantly, even as a little girl, just as you do now. Always the brave little lioness.”

“I am flattered”, she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Truly, an honour to get such a compliment from the great Lucius Malfoy.”

With a swift movement he slashed his wand again, and yet again she winced with pain as she felt another cut appear on her skin.

“Manners, Granger.”

She stayed silent, not wanting to anger him even more. This was already uncomfortable enough.

“Now, unfortunately it is almost time for us to say our farewells for this week. So I will tell you the real reason why you are here. Why I went through all the trouble with the Ministry to arrange all this.”

He leaned in closer to her, and she shuddered at this sudden invasion of her personal place. His scent. It was the same as when he had trapped her under him at the manor during the war. She felt sick to her stomach.

“I want to make you mine, Hermione. Body and soul. My little mudblood toy.”

She recoiled with horror. He was insane. There were a hundred replies crossing through her mind, and the first to come out was the most practical one.

“Why not just _Imperio_ me and be done with it then?”

Malfoy chuckled, his cold grey eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Now where would the _fun_ in that be? You see, in the end, you will come willingly. I will make you _want_ to be mine.”

Cold dread crept through her entire body. She wanted to run away, but no matter how hard she tried she could not stand up from her chair.

“I will never be yours. Ever”, she spat at him.

“That’s right, fight back, little lioness. It makes it even more fun.”

* * *

With shaking hands, she removed her clothes, stepped inside the tub and watched the water rise around her. It was hot, a lot hotter than what she would usually use.

Right now no amount of heat would be enough.

_Unclean._

She took up a sponge and scrubbed herself all over and then obsessively ran it over her scar. The skin turned pink, then red. It hurt. But she had to be clean, she wanted to be clean.

She only stopped when she realised that small beads of blood were running down her arm.

She let out a small sob and began to tremble all over. Why? Why her? She thought she was over it. She had gone to therapy.

Her breathing grew ragged. Her heart was pounding fast inside her chest. She tried to focus on something to ground herself.

 _It’s alright, you’re having a panic attack_ , she told herself as she focused on reading the back of a shampoo bottle that was sitting on the edge of the tub.

 _Organic Mango fruit Extract._ _Organic Slippery Elm_. Deep, slow breaths. _Phenoxyethanol_. _Lemongrass._

She could still hear his words, mocking her, taunting her, promising new horrors.

_In the end you will come willingly._


End file.
